“Thank you.” I tucked my wallet into my back pocket and struggled for something else to say. Gabe was freaking hot, and I wanted him so badly.
“I’m glad you got it back.” Gabe glanced at his expensive-looking watch, and I knew when I was being dismissed. Mr. Rolex said it was time for me to go.
Emerson smacked my arm. “Let’s blow this joint.”
I stared at Gabe for one last second before turning on my heels and nearly tripping over my own feet. Gabe grabbed my arm and steadied me.
“Careful.” His voice was low, deep, and hypnotic and right at my ear. I shivered and sighed at the closeness.
“Yeah, careful,” Emerson said. “They wouldn’t want you suing them for hurting yourself on their property.”
I wanted to smack the crap out of my cousin. What was his deal? Emerson wasn’t usually a jerk, so why was he acting like one?
“Thanks again.” I smiled at Gabe before joining Emerson at the elevator. “What’s your problem?”
I hoped my whispered voice wasn’t loud enough that Gabe had heard me because he was still standing there watching me.
“Hungry,” Emerson said. “And this place gives me hives. It’s too high-end for me. I’ll feel better once I’m back on the ground floor and sniffing out that cafeteria food.”
When the elevator arrived, we entered and I turned, staring right at Gabe, who was still staring at me. He had his hands tucked in his suit pants, his head slightly tilted, and a look in his eyes that I couldn’t discern. What was he thinking right now?
Unfortunately the elevator doors closed and I was robbed of ogling him any further.
Whether I wanted to or not, when we reached the ground floor, Emerson steered me toward the cafeteria, and I found myself seated at a table with a big meatball sub and soda.
So much for my diet.
* * * *
Once I’d gotten home and gone to my room, I pulled my laptop out and researched Gabriel Rothe. It wouldn’t hurt to know about him, even if I wasn’t ever going to see him again. We lived in two different worlds. My life was simple, and I loved it that way, though at times I dreamed of something different. I imagined everyone did that, no matter their lifestyle.
Gabe’s business website was open in front of me, and I scrolled through it. The site didn’t give me much information. Gabe had graduated from Columbia University, which, after researching that, I discovered was expensive as hell and highly accredited.
Impressive and it only solidified my belief that he was way out of my league.
Aside from listing a bunch of degrees Gabe had, there wasn’t much on the website about him, so I searched for any social media accounts. He had none. Who didn’t have any in this day and age? Maybe he’d had them under some other name, but I hadn’t found any.
My research into Gabriel Rothe had been a bust. I slapped my laptop closed and slid it across my bed when a knock sounded on my door.
“Honey, dinner is ready,” my mom called.
I was still full from that meatball sub. Emerson had been right. The food in the cafeteria was amazing. “I’m not eating,” I called back. “Emerson forced me to eat fast food, and I’m still stuffed.”
My mom opened the door. I hated that. It was one of the drawbacks to living with your parents. Your mom still treated you like a kid.
“I’ve told you a hundred times not to let him talk you into ruining your diet, Fitch,” she admonished. “Please tell me you didn’t eat anything greasy or heavy.” She walked around my room picking up my dirty clothes.
“I’m gonna go take a walk.”
She nodded, her arms full of my clothes, including my underwear. I’d told her a million times that I could do my own laundry, but my words had always fallen on deaf ears, so I’d given up that battle. “That’s a good idea. Exercise. But be careful, dear. It’s almost dark out.”
My parents had told me that when they first bought their house the neighborhood had been a great place. Over the years it had declined so rapidly that even they didn’t go out at night. They’d talked about selling the house and finding one in a better neighborhood, but with my dad getting hurt and losing his job, they couldn’t afford a better place to live.
“Do you need anything from the store?” I asked as I moved out of her way while she set my clothes aside and made my bed. I felt five years old.
“Milk and bread.” She gathered the dirty laundry. “And get your Uncle Glen his favorite cookies. He’s almost out of them, and you know how he gets when he doesn’t have his cookies for the evening news.”
The store was two blocks away. As long as it wasn’t full dark, I always felt relatively safe.
“Stop in the kitchen and I’ll give you some money.”
I would’ve argued that I could buy what she needed, but I had five bucks in my wallet until I got paid. My mom gave me ten bucks and I was out the door, enjoying the evening air as my sneakers pounded the sidewalk.
I rounded the corner and was almost to the store when my heart nearly gave out. Walking toward me was Toothpick and his goons. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Gabe wasn’t going to drive by and save me this time. That had been a fluke. I was on my own and knew I was in deep shit when Toothpick locked gazes with me and smiled.
“Hey,” one of the guys with Toothpick said. “Ain’t that the guy from earlier?”
Toothpick nodded. “That’s the one Mr. Rothe saved from me.” The guy looked around. “Ain’t no one here to save you now.”
I was screwed seven ways from Sunday, and I knew it. Toothpick knew it. His goons knew it, too. When confronted by three bullies who outweighed you by a good sixty pounds of muscle, the best course of action was to run your ass off in the opposite direction.
Too bad I was out of shape because Toothpick caught up to me in ten strides. He grabbed my arm that was still in a sling, and I screamed my fool head off.
From fear and from pain.
I whacked at his grip with my good hand, but the bastard wouldn’t let me go. Toothpick started to drag me backward, and I was terrified of what he would do, until I saw some random stranger heading toward me.
He was tall and built, with dark hair and even darker eyes.
Toothpick’s men went after the guy, but he laid them out flat in seconds. Shit. I’d never seen anyone fight like that before, except in the movies. Quick moves and power behind his punches. The two goons lay on the ground groaning as the stranger turned his sights on Toothpick.
“This isn’t your business, Cole,” Toothpick snarled, and I nearly passed out. Had I just seen canines in his mouth? I blinked several times, and they were still there.
Holy fuck! What in the hell was going on?
“Release him, Deon,” Cole said. “He’s under Mr. Rothe’s protection.”
I was? Since when? And if Cole had come to my aid so quickly, that meant the guy had been following me. Had Gabe hired Cole to babysit me?
Toothpick…er…Deon snarled at Cole. “This isn’t over. Mr. Rothe can shove his protection up his ass. The council doesn’t run the east side anymore.”
Deon released me by shoving me toward Cole and walking away. His goons staggered to their feet and took off.
“Thanks.” I looked into Cole’s dark eyes. “Thanks for saving me, but you can tell Mr. Rothe I don’t need his protection.”